


How Atobe Stole Seigaku's Virginity

by Kantayra



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Tezuka killed the dinosaurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-06
Updated: 2009-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atobe is <i>horrified</i> to learn that Seigaku are all virgins and takes it upon himself to remedy this situation immediately. Out of the goodness of his heart, mind you, and not because he's trying to get into Tezuka's pants, <i>at all</i>. Tezuka is frightened...and a little turned on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Tezuka Let His Guard Down

Tezuka wasn’t even sure how the conversation had gotten to this point. He and Atobe were meeting for lunch to negotiate a round of practice matches between Seigaku and Hyotei, Atobe was holding court like his usual fabulous self, and after the fourth time Atobe’s cell phone went off, Tezuka maybe snapped a little.

“Is there anyone on your team that you _haven’t_ pimped out?” Atobe always had the amazing ability to bring out the cattiest in Tezuka.

Atobe just smirked and said something about flavored condoms to Mukahi over the phone, while Tezuka tried desperately not to listen. His attempts were about as successful as his efforts not to blush. “By the way,” Atobe drawled into the receiver, “Tezuka says you’re a whore.”

Tezuka forced himself not to react.

Atobe’s grin turned evil. “Gakuto says he’ll do you for fifty percent off.”

Tezuka could feel his cheeks burning.

Atobe said his goodbyes with more than his usual fanfare – really, the “kiss, kiss” had to be an intentional self-parody, right? – and hung up. “Now, Tezuka,” Atobe teased, “don’t be a prude.”

Tezuka grunted.

“It’s not like _your_ team are virgins…”

“Actually,” Tezuka replied with a hint of pride in his voice, “they are.”

And that was how it began.

Had anyone other than Tezuka made such a pronouncement, it would have been written off as naïveté. But Tezuka was disturbingly devoted to his team, to knowing all their strengths and weaknesses, problems and concerns, determinations both on the court and off. In truth, _nothing_ happened in the Seigaku tennis club that Tezuka didn’t find out about one way or another. Inui, no matter how much effort he put into his data-gathering, had nothing on his captain. Tezuka was just more discreet about the whole thing.

Atobe knew all of this, of course. It was something that, as mutual captains of their respective teams, they shared.

It took Atobe a moment to process this fact, however.

“ _What_?” Atobe’s screech when he realized Tezuka was telling the truth caused half the patrons of the café to look over at them in alarm.

“You’re making a scene,” Tezuka complained. It was rather a useless thing to point out, he acknowledged to himself; Atobe _adored_ making scenes.

Atobe laughed in disbelief. “You’re kidding,” he insisted.

“No.”

“They’re _actually_ virgins?”

“Yes.”

“ _All_ of them?”

“Yes.” Tezuka was growing impatient. “Now, if we can get back to scheduling—”

“No, no, no.” Atobe dismissed his futile efforts to change the topic. “We simply can’t let this stand.”

Tezuka wasn’t quite sure whether he was included in the “we” or Atobe now referred to himself in the royal plural. “Thursday and Friday are out due to Seigaku’s ranking tournament,” he plunged forward nonetheless.

“I mean… The Golden Pair? They _really_ haven’t?”

Tezuka sighed. Apparently, he would have to appease Atobe before they could get any work done. “No,” he insisted.

“What about the prodigy with the creepy smile and that big bear of a power-hitter he’s always mooning over?”

“No.”

“The data freak and the snake boy? Come _on_! I’ve seen them play doubles. They must’ve—”

“No.”

“And the little brat and the loudmouth with the atrociously vertical hair?”

Tezuka’s eyes narrowed. “They _have_ names.”

“Well?” Atobe demanded.

“No,” Tezuka repeated dutifully.

Something flashed in Atobe’s eyes, and he looked up at Tezuka from under his lashes. “You?” he practically purred.

Tezuka felt his cheeks reddening once again. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business.” He crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to look authoritative, but it really just came off as petulant.

“Hmm…” Atobe hummed to himself in an unnerving way, lounging back elegantly in his seat.

Tezuka found himself uncharacteristically unable to meet Atobe’s eyes. “I’m not even fifteen yet.” Heaven only knew why he felt the need to justify himself to Atobe.

Atobe was disturbingly silent.

“There’s nothing wrong with saving yourself for the right person,” Tezuka insisted.

Atobe finally let out a long, put-upon sigh. “Oh, Tezuka…”

Tezuka glared at him for good measure. “Can we return to work now? How does Satur—?”

“You know,” Atobe interrupted him yet again, “I usually don’t like to interfere…”

Tezuka was rendered speechless by that blatant lie.

“I understand that, as captains, we have very different styles,” Atobe continued airily, “and I respect that. However, this is just too over-the-top. I simply can’t keep quiet. It’s so… _perverse_!”

Tezuka boggled some more about how that was pretty much how he felt about how _Atobe_ ran things.

“I’m not saying you need to participate as actively as I do, but really, Tezuka? You couldn’t get _any_ of them laid?” Atobe shook his head. “Have you no heart? Seigaku is suffering, yet its captain cares not. It’s tragic, really…”

“No one is suffering,” Tezuka snapped. He could withstand a lot from Atobe, but questioning Tezuka’s abilities as captain was just too much.

“Aren’t they?” Atobe let out a dramatic sigh. “All those hormones – the confusion of puberty – and nowhere to vent them. Just think of how much it must be distracting your team. Unresolved sexual tension practically dripping off the courts… It’s a miracle Seigaku hasn’t completely fallen apart by now.”

“We beat Hyotei,” Tezuka reminded him. “Despite your supposed lack of distraction.”

“There’s no need to be rude,” Atobe huffed. “Not that I blame you, of course. I’m sure your manners will improve markedly once you get laid. Pent-up lust does tend to make one cranky, after all.”

Tezuka sputtered. It was the only logical reaction to Atobe being so…well, _himself_.

“Fear not, though.” Atobe waved one wrist magnanimously in the air. “I can see you are in dire need of assistance in this matter, so just this once I will deign to grace you with my expertise. As a favor from one captain to another, you understand. No, there’s no need to thank me.” Atobe had shut his eyes throughout his declaration, but he cracked one open now and paused pointedly, clearly waiting for Tezuka to thank him.

Tezuka fixed him with his sternest look. “Stay away from my team.”

“Hmm, I was going to save the best for last, but maybe I’d better take care of you first. Loosen you up a little…” Atobe’s hand curved over Tezuka’s on the table between them.

Tezuka coughed up his tea. Fortunately, his hand escaped while he hacked at the tea that had gone down the wrong pipe.

“You’d better appreciate this,” Atobe continued as if he didn’t even notice Tezuka’s reaction. “It’s an effort even for me to take an entire _team’s_ virginity.”

Tezuka’s eyes widened. He was suddenly assaulted by the image of a writhing mass of naked Seigaku limbs, with Atobe lounging in the center of the orgy, wearing nothing but that arrogant smile as Tezuka’s team pleasured him. For some reason, the image left a sour taste in Tezuka’s mouth. There was the usual shock and exasperation at Atobe, of course, but he felt something more, something like…rage…

“Oh, there’s no need to be jealous.” Laughter danced in Atobe’s eyes now. “I didn’t mean that I would service them all myself. Only the most worthy get my… _personal_ attention.” Atobe’s eyelashes fluttered.

Tezuka gulped.

“Rather, Seigaku just needs a few strategic pushes in the right direction. And protection. Mmm, yes, I’d better deal with that first.” Tezuka gaped while Atobe pulled out his cell phone yet again. “Yes, Kabaji? The entire Seigaku team needs condoms. Take care of it, will you?”

A softly reverberating “Yes” could be heard even from where Tezuka was sitting.

Tezuka finally shook his head and snapped out of it. “ _Atobe_ …” he warned.

“Better get some lube while you’re at it…”

“I’m serious, Atobe.”

“And maybe some handcuffs as well. I bet that Oishi likes it kinky. It’s always the quiet ones, you know?”

“Knock it off, Atobe!” Tezuka lost his composure for the second time that afternoon.

Atobe looked remarkably pleased with this result. He snapped his cell phone shut. “Stop worrying so much. This will be fun.”

“Leave my team alone,” Tezuka demanded. “We have to worry about Nationals right now.”

“You have to worry about your tragic lack of social lives,” Atobe corrected.

“This joke isn’t funny anymore.”

“Who ever said it was a joke?” Atobe raised one graceful finger and signaled for the bill.

Tezuka froze. He’d assumed Atobe was annoying, but kidding. The thought that Atobe was actually _serious_ … “That’s enough of that,” he half growled.

“Yes,” Atobe agreed, slipping several bills onto the table, “Saturday will work just fine. Shall we start around one o’clock? I’ll give you the home court advantage for these first practice matches.”

“You are _not_ serious,” Tezuka demanded.

“We’ll start by giving our B-teams a work-out, yes?”

“Fine. But, Atobe, I want you to promise me that you won’t—”

Atobe rose to his feet and cut Tezuka off with a pat to the cheek. “Business before pleasure,” he teased.

“You _were_ kidding?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Atobe smirked at Tezuka over his shoulder and then strutted off.

Tezuka was disturbed to realize that he’d fallen enough into Atobe’s trap that he watched Atobe’s ass saunter all the way out the door. “He was kidding,” Tezuka mumbled, trying to convince himself.

Tezuka was ashamed to admit that he had failed to follow his own time-tested advice: He had let his guard down.


	2. How Oishi and Kikumaru Lost Their Virginity

When Atobe said that he would take care of Seigaku’s little problem, what he actually meant was that he’d make his team do all the work for him. It was surprisingly easy to convince them to do this.

“I don’t see why we have to help that Kikumaru guy,” Mukahi sulked.

“He beat you, and he’s a _virgin_ ,” Atobe drawled, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mukahi’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me?”

“This is pointless,” Oshitari insisted. “We should be prepping for Nationals.”

“You were beaten,” Atobe repeated slowly, “by a pair of _virgins_.”

Oshitari flushed slightly.

“Imagine if that little fact got out.” Atobe pondered. “Really, would you ever be able to live it down?”

Oshitari glared at him.

“Your only hope is to make them _not_ virgins before anyone else finds out. Be glad Tezuka came to me with this problem first.”

Oshitari sighed in defeat. “What do you want us to do?”

Atobe grinned.

***

“Did Tezuka seem troubled to you today?” Oishi asked as he and Kikumaru walked home after practice.

“Hmm,” Kikumaru scratched his chin. “Well, he _did_ tell us not to let our guards down more than usual.”

“Especially around Hyotei.” Oishi repeated with a frown. “What do you suppose that meant?”

In answer to Oishi’s question, at that moment they turned the corner onto Kikumaru’s street, only to find Oshitari and Mukahi lounging against the wall outside Kikumaru’s house. Oishi and Kikumaru froze mid-step.

“Uh, Oishi? What are they doing here?” Kikumaru asked nervously.

“I have no clue,” Oishi admitted, a little nervous himself.

As they waffled, Mukahi noticed them standing by the corner and nudged Oshitari in the ribs. Oshitari looked up, and Oishi would have sworn that a demonic light possessed his glasses for an instant.

“Should we run?” Kikumaru breathed.

“Hey,” Oshitari hailed them calmly, “Seigaku.”

Oishi and Kikumaru exchanged a glance and headed for the Hyotei pair.

“This is my house.” Kikumaru scratched his head. “What are you two doing here, huh?”

Mukahi sneered at him like he was an absolute idiot. “Looking for you, obviously,” he huffed.

Kikumaru laughed nervously.

“Ah, imagine that,” Oishi tried to smile. “Was there something you wanted?”

The light flashed off Oshitari’s glasses again. “Play a match with us,” he demanded.

“Why?” Kikumaru shot back.

“Because we said so,” Mukahi glared at him.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to play you,” Kikumaru glared back.

“What? Are you _scared_?” Mukahi shot back.

“You should be the one scared.” Kikumaru stuck his tongue out. “I beat you just fine last time, and I didn’t even have Oishi then.”

Oishi blushed slightly. “Uh…Eiji?” Tezuka’s perpetual warning about letting their guards down was admittedly a bit vague, but Oishi was pretty sure that playing a spontaneous match with one of Hyotei’s doubles pairs qualified.

“Come on, Oishi,” Kikumaru grabbed his arm. “We’ll show these two what the Golden Pair is made of.”

“I don’t think…” Oishi was wavering.

Oshitari scoffed at the strategic moment. “I see the rest of Seigaku is even more of a failure than its captain.”

Oishi’s eyes hardened. “Fine. Let’s do it.” He stalked in the direction of the street courts, Kikumaru right on his heels.

“Heh,” Mukahi gave Oshitari a thumbs up sign, “good one.”

“So predictable,” Oshitari agreed.

***

The score was 2-1 in Hyotei’s favor when Mukahi decided to drop the metaphorical bomb.

Oishi served, Mukahi flipped to the side to let Oshitari return, Kikumaru dove for the backhand, and then Mukahi caught him going the other way with a killer drop shot. Kikumaru pushed himself up off the ground with his hands and _glared_ at Mukahi.

Mukahi had already turned his back on Kikumaru to approach Oshitari. “Nice return,” he said and shoved his tongue down Oshitari’s throat.

He heard choking sounds behind him from Kikumaru and at the same time felt Oshitari’s lips curve against his in a smirk.

“I think we got them,” Oshitari whispered against Mukahi’s cheek when they pulled apart.

Mukahi strutted back into position with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin on his face.

“Y-You just…!” Kikumaru was pointing at him with his racket and sputtering. Back at the baseline, Oishi’s entire face had turned red.

“15-all,” Mukahi said simply. “Oishi to serve.”

Oishi shook his head, took a deep breath, and faulted.

Mukahi grinned. “Come on, now. Let’s see the famous Golden Pair in action!”

Kikumaru growled, and Oishi’s eyes narrowed. Oishi’s next serve swept right past Oshitari.

“30-15,” Kikumaru said smugly.

“It’s all right,” Mukahi informed Oshitari. “I still love you.”

Kikumaru started coughing again.

“Can we just play?” Oishi requested.

Mukahi blew him a kiss.

Oishi’s next serve was slow. Mukahi caught it with a nice cross, and Kikumaru had to do a fancy little spin in mid-air to catch it behind him. Mukahi countered, Oishi caught the long volley just barely, and – before Kikumaru had time to react – Oshitari stormed in and took the point with a killer smash.

“30-all,” Mukahi twirled his racket. “Nice,” he offered to Oshitari.

Oshitari smirked at him, grabbed him by the waist, and _sucked_ on his throat. Mukahi peeked out of the corner of his eye to see Kikumaru gaping at them.

“Hey, hey!” Kikumaru exclaimed. “Cut that out!”

“But doesn’t my partner deserve his _reward_ for a point well-played?” Mukahi retorted huskily. Oshitari really did have a remarkably talented tongue.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to play doubles!” Kikumaru insisted.

And Mukahi went it for the kill. “Are you _serious_?” He fixed Kikumaru with a disgusted glare, one hand on his hip. “You don’t reward each other at _all_? God, no wonder you suck…”

Oishi and Kikumaru exchanged anxious looks at this. “What are you talking about?” Oishi demanded.

“It’s the basic rule of doubles,” Oshitari looked down at him with disdain. “I can’t believe you two didn’t know that.”

Oishi was visibly flustered now. “I’ve read plenty of books on doubles theory, but none of them has ever mentioned—”

Oshitari snorted. “Not in books, of course. They can’t print that sort of thing, you know.”

“But _all_ the great doubles teams do it,” Mukahi added. “No wonder Seigaku’s always sucked in doubles: all theory and no experience.”

Oishi was looking downright disturbed. “But…I…”

“Let’s just play,” Oshitari said impatiently.

Kikumaru gave Oishi a worried look. “Oi, Oishi, do you think we should try it?”

Mukahi fought his snicker.

Oishi hesitated. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right…”

“Unsynchronized _and_ vanilla,” Mukahi teased.

“Ignore them, Oishi,” Kikumaru insisted. “We can beat them anyway.”

Oshitari made note that, as a psychological attack, this was actually quite effective. Oishi bungled the next two serves, and Hyotei took the game.

“3-1,” Oshitari announced and took his serve.

Across the court, Kikumaru’s face hardened. He returned the serve with a vicious slice. Mukahi flipped back to counter, Kikumaru hit a cross right past Mukahi, and Oshitari caught it with a long shot to the baseline. Oishi hadn’t moved once so far this point, but suddenly he snapped to, dragged his racket low on the ground, and…

Oshitari intentionally kept himself a half-step too late and missed the moon volley. “Love-15,” he conceded and eagerly awaited the reaction from their opponents.

Oishi and Kikumaru exchanged an embarrassed, awkward look, before Kikumaru set his shoulders squarely, smiled, and said, “Nice volley.”

“Ah, thanks,” Oishi blushed.

Kikumaru nodded to himself once, for courage no doubt, and walked up to Oishi. He hesitated for a moment and then nervously placed a quick peck on Oishi’s lips. Oishi’s face turned beet red, and a goofy grin lit up his entire face.

Mukahi was now snickering behind his hand.

“Come on, Oishi!” Kikumaru said cheerfully. “Let’s beat them!”

“Yeah…” Oishi sighed, still wearing that stupidly besotted smile.

Oshitari took the next two points because, even though he had to lose, he didn’t want to lose _too_ badly. Plus, it put even more pressure on Seigaku. By the time Oshitari finally gave Oishi his opening, Oishi looked downright _desperate_ to earn himself another kiss.

It was an impressive return. Oshitari wasn’t entirely sure he could have gotten it, even if he’d been trying his hardest.

“Yay, Oishi!” Kikumaru bounded over to his partner and wrapped his arms around him. “Here’s your reward.”

Mukahi and Oshitari stood by and watched as the Golden Pair made it to second base.

“You know,” Mukahi said sullenly, “they’re actually quite good.”

“Yeah,” Oshitari agreed.

“I don’t think we need to throw any more points. They should do just fine, anyway…”

Oshitari’s eyes hardened. “Yeah,” he agreed more decisively. Atobe’s games were always fun, but Oshitari wanted a _real_ match against these two.

“Let’s do it,” Mukahi agreed.

The game was so on.

By the time it was 3-all, Oishi had a very prominent bulge in his shorts.

At 4-3, Kikumaru had an answering bulge.

At 5-4, Oshitari caught some rather elicit grinding going on.

After 6-6, Oishi’s hand mysteriously vanished down Kikumaru’s pants for a good two minutes.

And then, finally, with the tie-breaker match point, Kikumaru leapt into Oishi’s arms, and the two of them proceeded to ignore their defeated opponents for roughly the next twenty minutes.

“We’re not going to get any thanks for this, are we?” Mukahi bitched.

“Maybe Atobe will let us use the pool house tonight,” Oshitari suggested. His own shorts were rather uncomfortable after that match.

“Hmm,” Mukahi purred in a sultry voice and stroked one finger down the center of Oshitari’s chest.

“Hey, Seigaku,” Oshitari called out. “We’re off to… _review_ the game.” He choked a little when Mukahi’s hand palmed his ass.

“Huh?” Oishi came up for air and looked bewildered to discover that something existed in the world besides his doubles partner.

“You know,” Mukahi winked. “Our coordination was off, so we have to work on it.”

Oishi and Kikumaru blinked at them.

“Don’t you know you can’t get in _real_ synch with your partner until you’ve been inside each other?” Oshitari scorned them. He slid an arm around Mukahi’s waist, and they headed off together.

“We’ll be all synched up to beat you at Nationals!” was Mukahi’s parting taunt.

Oishi and Kikumaru slowly turned to look at each other…and blushed.

“Oi-Oishi?” Kikumaru stuttered.

“I-I think we…” Oishi was stuttering, too.

Kikumaru plunged on bravely. “I think we should,” he insisted. “For the good of our tennis!”

“Oh, um, absolutely right,” Oishi agreed. “For…tennis.”

Kikumaru grinned. Oishi grinned dopily back. And much buttsex was had by all.

***

Back at his mansion, Atobe checked the Golden Pair off his list. And then put a pillow over his head to try to block out the absolute _racket_ Oshitari and Mukahi were making such that it could be heard all the way from the pool house. Atobe made a mental note never to ask those two for a favor again.


	3. How Kawamura and Fuji Lost Their Virginity

Tezuka was Officially Concerned (TM). There was something wrong with Oishi and Kikumaru, ever since Monday. The two of them had taken to the rather disturbing habit of separating themselves from the rest of the team, standing very close together, and _giggling_. It was quite alarming.

When Tezuka asked Oishi if anything was amiss, Oishi’s face had turned red and he’d stammered something about how they were “practicing their synchronization.” Tezuka let them leave for Oishi’s house, where Kikumaru had said they would “try out a new doubles position.”

Tezuka glared at the spot they had vacated. Somehow, Atobe had succeeded in corrupting Seigaku’s top doubles pair.

“Those two seem to be in a good mood this week, don’t they?” Fuji snuck up behind Tezuka.

Tezuka, through years of practice, didn’t jump at all. “Humph,” was all he said.

“I wonder what they’re so excited about, hmm?” Fuji’s innocent smile told Tezuka that Fuji knew _exactly_ what they were up to.

Tezuka suddenly felt at a loss. His team was slowly slipping out of his grasp. He cursed Atobe mentally. “Fuji…” Tezuka finally said warily.

“Hmm?” Fuji beamed up at him.

“Don’t let your guard down.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Fuji promised.

Somehow, Tezuka didn’t feel reassured.

***

Fuji had been waiting for several hours for an opportunity to let his guard down before there was a knock on his door. His mother was out shopping, so he opened the door himself to find Kabaji’s bulk blocking out all sunlight from the doorstep. Akutagawa was slung, unconscious, over his shoulder.

“Ah, come in,” Fuji smiled. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes,” Kabaji agreed.

While Kabaji drank his tea surprisingly daintily and Akutagawa snored on the kitchen floor, Fuji read through the lengthy and detailed letter Atobe had written on his own personalized stationary. Fuji wasn’t entirely certain, but he _thought_ it was lilac perfume that scented the letter.

The beginning confirmed Fuji’s suspicions that Atobe was the root of Tezuka’s latest bout of warnings; there was a certain tension in Tezuka’s shoulders lately that only Atobe could put there. Fuji could not, however, even in his wildest of dreams, have imagined just _how_ hilarious the situation between Tezuka and Atobe had become. Fuji approved very much and planned to tease Tezuka mercilessly about it at the next available opportunity.

The end of the letter, however, was of more immediate interest:

 _As such,_ Atobe’s purple prose drawled, _I am confident that you will concur that the following arrangement will be to our mutual benefit. Since you are not half so oblivious or sexless as the rest of your hapless teammates, I trust you already have an adequate plan regarding yourself and that Kawamura individual. However, as your future lover is regrettably as pure and innocent as a fresh winter’s snowfall, I am sure that any attempts to manipulate him into the appropriate positions are quite difficult. Thus, I offer to you, in a gesture that I’m sure you will agree is both generous and gracious on my part, the assistance of my two associates, who have been delivered with this missive. Please make full use of them to the best of your abilities._

 _Forever charmingly and handsomely yours,  
Atobe Keigo_

Fuji smiled, slowly and evilly, his eyes open.

Kabaji froze mid-sip and gulped.

Some survival instinct caused Akutagawa to jerk up from his nap in sudden alarm.

“Let’s go to the park,” Fuji announced with an angelic countenance.

***

Kawamura fumbled with the park gate and nervously checked his watch. He’d gotten off work in plenty of time, but he’d wanted to help his dad clean up, and then his elderly neighbor had needed help moving some boxes, and now he was late. He felt guilty about making Fuji wait, even though Fuji was always an absolute sweetheart about these things. Kawamura could never figure out why a smart, popular, talented guy like Fuji wanted to be friends with an oaf like him in the first place.

Most people would probably say that it was because Fuji was not-so-secretly Satan Incarnate, but Kawamura thought they were all being silly. Even if Fuji was the devil to his enemies, he was still an angel to those dear to him. In Kawamura’s opinion, the quirk in Fuji’s personality just made him… _spicy_. Since Kawamura had met Fuji, he’d developed a very refined taste for spicy things.

Fuji had said he would be on one of the back courts, practicing a new counter. Kawamura couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered that Fuji wanted _him_ to help with this new technique. Of course, it was probably just because Fuji’s new move was to counter power attacks. It wasn’t like Kawamura was good at anything else.

Feeling both sheepish about being late and a little excited about spending such a nice evening with Fuji, Kawamura emerged from the path that led to the tennis courts…and froze.

Fuji was there, looking delicate and graceful as always, but he wasn’t alone. Kawamura recognized Hyotei’s Kabaji, because he could never forget the other slugger after their fateful match in Regionals. Kabaji was looming a bit too close to Fuji, a towering menace. That guy Fuji had played was there, too. Akutagawa, Kawamura thought his name was. He had an arm around Fuji’s shoulders and, as Kawamura watched, leaned in to sniff Fuji’s hair.

Fuji wasn’t smiling.

The sort of burning passion that usually only filled Kawamura when he was holding a tennis racket coursed through his veins. As he watched, Kabaji raised one fist against Fuji’s slender, beautiful body. Kawamura raced to the rescue.

***

“What about pansies?” Fuji asked pleasantly, a fake frown firmly affixed on his face. After all the years with the fake smile, it was actually a lot harder than it looked.

“Petunias are better for the soil condition,” Kabaji insisted.

Akutagawa sniffed Fuji’s hair. Fuji wasn’t exactly sure Akutagawa was succeeding in seeming lecherous. He rather reminded Fuji of an overeager puppy. At least he wasn’t asleep, though. It would be hard to seem like he was being roughed up by Hyotei if Akutagawa was unconscious.

“Have you ever played Marui?” Akutagawa asked hopefully. “He’s really, really good, too.”

“Uh…no.” Fuji’s ear was starting to tickle where Akutagawa kept snuffling it.

“You should play someday. Maybe all three of us could play. That would just be _amazing_ ,” Akutagawa sighed dreamily.

“I don’t like orchids,” Kabaji informed Fuji. “But roses are okay.”

How Hyotei had gotten its menacing reputation, Fuji would never know.

“Roses, really?” Fuji considered. “I’ve always liked carnations better.”

Kabaji raised a fist in Fuji’s face. “My mother once grew a carnation that was this big.”

“Wow,” Fuji fought the instinctive urge to smile benignly, “that must have been amazing.”

“Yes,” Kabaji agreed.

“Mmm,” Akutagawa hummed in Fuji’s ear. “He’s here.”

A jolt of excitement passed through Fuji’s body as he heard Kawamura shout out angrily at the Hyotei players. Kawamura had always been so protective of Fuji. He was so powerful, so fiery…if only he was holding his racket. Fuji had been trying, in vain, to provoke that passion _without_ the racket for years. He’d even considered this very scenario once or twice, but always discarded it because he didn’t have anyone to properly play the bullies. He was going to have to get Kabaji some nice petunias when this was over. And Akutagawa… Fuji pondered, for a second, the feasibility of giving Akutagawa a tied-up Marui, before reluctantly letting the idea go.

“Hey, you!” Kawamura stormed in with all the confidence he normally reserved for the tennis court. “Back off.” He knocked Kabaji’s fist, which was still demonstrating the size of his mother’s carnations, aside.

“Taka!” Fuji breathed in false relief. He’d always been a good actor.

Akutagawa nuzzled his neck.

“And, you!” Kawamura muscled his way in and knocked Akutagawa back off Fuji and into Kabaji. “Keep your hands to yourself.” Kawamura’s arm wrapped around Fuji’s waist, steadying him.

Fuji didn’t even have to fake swooning a little.

“Seigaku,” Kabaji sneered in his gruffest tone. “I’ll do whatever I want to that pretty boy.”

Fuji was actually quite impressed; Kabaji was an excellent actor as well. Fuji wondered whether his own brief example had been enough for Kabaji to copy the technique and adapt it to this entirely different role. It was definitely a theory worth investigating.

Kawamura’s hand tightened on Fuji’s hip in a gesture that clearly said, _Mine!_ It was one of the happiest moments of Fuji’s life, to date. “Just try it!” Kawamura was still burning, even without his racket.

“You think you can stop me?” Kabaji grunted.

“Yeah, baby!”

Kabaji snorted. “I’ll play you for him.”

Kawamura paused for a minute at that. “What?”

“You heard me,” Kabaji shoved at Kawamura’s shoulder.

“Taka.” Fuji snuggled into Kawamura’s shoulder and tried to pretend like he was helpless.

Kawamura hesitated, so Fuji shoved his racket into his hand. “You are going _down_!” Kawamura cried out, waving his racket in the air. “ _Burning!_ ”

Fuji retreated to a nearby bench to watch them. Akutagawa had already fallen asleep there, no longer able to retain consciousness once he’d been separated from Fuji’s immediate stimulus. He stirred long enough to rest his head on Fuji’s lap before smacking his lips contentedly.

“Who’s winning?”

Fuji’s face flushed slightly as he watched the match. “Mmm, Taka is. He’s so strong and… _muscular_.”

Akutagawa considered this for a second and realized that, alas, even if he did nothing but weights all through high school, he probably still wouldn’t be big enough to attract Fuji’s attention. Such was the curse of genetics. Resigning himself to never being Fuji’s boyfriend, he settled for being Fuji’s girlfriend instead.

“What about Kabaji? He’s pretty muscular, too. Actually, he’s _huge_!”

Fuji cast an appreciative glance in Kabaji’s direction for a moment before turning back to Kawamura. “He is,” Fuji agreed, “but he’s not my Taka.”

As they watched, Kawamura hit a ball that would have knocked most players off their feet. Kabaji somehow caught the ball with his racket and hurled it back over the net. Kawamura’s muscles flexed, bunched, and then the ball was streaming back at Kabaji, twice as powerful.

Fuji sighed. “Arms like that could hold me down as long as they wanted, and I’d never be able to escape…”

“Hmm,” Akutagawa thought. “You’re kind of kinky, you know. Have you ever considered transferring to Hyotei for high school? You’d fit right in.”

Fuji was too busy watching the match for his virtue, however. “He’d be so strong holding me down, but so _gentle_ , too.”

Akutagawa was quickly learning why the rest of Seigaku had learned to run screaming in the other direction whenever Fuji started talking about Kawamura.

Luckily, at that moment, Kawamura finally hit a ball that knocked the racket clear out of Kabaji’s hands. “Aw, yeah! Victory, baby!” Kawamura danced on the court. He finally noticed the spectators when Fuji began to clap. “Time to claim my prize!” he boasted, hauled Fuji up into his arms bridal-style, and kissed him soundly.

“Mmm,” Fuji clung back.

“Super passion!” Kawamura called out for all the world to hear, pumping one fist in the air. It seemed that holding Fuji was having the same effect as holding his racket.

Akutagawa blinked as Kawamura carried Fuji off into the sunset. “You know,” he began thoughtfully, “I think that Fuji guy might be a little bit warped…”

“Yes,” Kabaji agreed.


	4. How Inui and Kaidoh Lost Their Virginity

Fuji was _smiling_. Not diabolically smiling, but _actually_ smiling. And he had been for two days now. Tezuka refused to admit it, but he was a little bit scared.

“What did you do?” he demanded that Saturday when Atobe traipsed into Seigaku’s training grounds with Hyotei’s second-string team.

“Moi?” Atobe made an innocent gesture towards his heart. _There_ was a diabolical smile if Tezuka had ever seen one.

“Toi,” Tezuka insisted sternly.

“Tezuka-darling, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” A couple of the Hyotei second-years snickered at the nickname. A couple of the Seigaku ones did, too.

Tezuka turned his head sharply to glare at them. They all shut up instantly, and Tezuka was reminded of the time when Oishi had hesitantly suggested that Tezuka not do that anymore because it made him look like he was possessed by a demon. “Don’t call me that,” he turned back to Atobe, mentally calculating how many laps he’d make his team run next practice.

“Shall we start, then?” Atobe asked brightly. With a snap of his fingers, Hyotei’s players deployed to their assigned courts. The Seigaku players followed them with a bit more free will.

“I asked Kawamura about it.” Tezuka crossed his arms over his chest and looked stoically out over the courts. “He just said, ‘That Fuji is such a tricky guy.’ And then he _sighed_. Longingly.”

“See?” Atobe said smugly. “Already your team is better off for my efforts.”

“What did you do?” Tezuka demanded.

“Frankly, I can’t _wait_ for that snake freak to let up on the attitude. I don’t think I’ve _ever_ met anyone more desperate to get his cherry popped.” Atobe shuddered delicately.

“What did you _do_?” Tezuka hissed.

“Now, Tezuka,” Atobe smiled lazily, “that would ruin the surprise.”

***

“I can’t believe Atobe is making us do this,” Shishido grumped.

“I’m torn,” Ohtori agreed. “On the one hand, Atobe did us a huge favor getting you back on the regulars. On the other hand, I’m just not sure we can do this!”

Shishido gave him a fond smile. “I seem to recall you helping to keep me on the team, as well.”

Ohtori smiled back.

Birds chirped in the trees, a soft wind rustled the leaves, and they probably would have ended up going right back to Shishido’s place, if Kaidoh hadn’t rounded the corner just then on his afternoon jog and crashed into them.

“Ow!” pretty much everyone said in unison.

“Watch where you’re going,” Kaidoh demanded gruffly. He brushed himself off and was about to return to his run.

“Wait, wait!” Ohtori stumbled to his feet.

Kaidoh looked back at them over his shoulder and _glared_.

Ohtori let out a frightened little squeaking noise.

Shishido clasped a hand on his shoulder, lending him his strength. “We were just looking for you,” he informed Kaidoh.

“What for?” Kaidoh grumbled.

“Er…” Shishido stuttered. Ohtori clung to him. His partner’s distress just gave Shishido more courage. “A-About your doubles partner…”

“Yeah?” Kaidoh seemed to look angrier with everything they said.

Ohtori knew where to take it from there. “Aren’t doubles partners the _best_?” He gazed longingly at Shishido.

“Pssh!” Kaidoh sneered at them and started running again.

Shishido and Ohtori exchanged a worried look.

“It didn’t work!” Ohtori panicked.

“Be brave,” Shishido insisted. “We can’t lose! Hyotei is depending on us.”

Ohtori sighed. “Anything for you, Shishido. You give me strength.”

“Oh, Chotaro…”

“Oh, Shishido…”

Their imminent passionate embrace was interrupted by Shishido’s phone ringing.

“Uh, hello?” Shishido asked curiously.

“ _Stop fellating each other and get to work!_ ” Atobe’s voice snapped on the other end.

“I still don’t see why we have to follow this guy around and talk about doubles,” Shishido glared at his phone. “It’s a waste of our time.”

“ _You’re doing it,_ ” Atobe reminded him lazily, “ _because if you don’t, I make Gakuto Ohtori’s doubles partner instead of you._ ”

Shishido froze, wide-eyed. Ohtori blinked at him curiously, looking so pure and innocent and… “You wouldn’t!” Shishido hissed.

“ _Try me._ ”

Shishido snapped his phone shut angrily.

“Atobe?” Ohtori guessed from the expression on Shishido’s face.

“He said we should stop, uh…messing around,” Shishido PG’ed it up and fast, “and catch Kaidoh.”

“It’s kind of scary how he does that,” Ohtori commented, like they weren’t hopelessly predictable.

“It’s his _insight_ ,” Shishido concluded. “Now, back to work. We can do this!”

“I believe in us,” Ohtori agreed.

As one, they raced off after Kaidoh.

***

They finally caught up to Kaidoh at the river. Kaidoh was waist-deep in the water, lifting weights. Together, Shishido and Ohtori collapsed on the bank, panting for breath.

“We did it!” Shishido gasped.

“Together, we can do anything,” Ohtori agreed.

Kaidoh snorted to himself and refused to look at them.

“I’ll never admit defeat,” Shishido said proudly.

“You’re my inspiration,” Ohtori sighed.

Kaidoh’s shoulders tensed. “What do you two _want_?” he snapped angrily.

“We’re here to help.” Ohtori pushed himself up into a sitting position and smiled at Kaidoh.

Kaidoh grunted and returned to his weights.

Shishido rolled his eyes and flopped back on the bank, indicating for Ohtori to take care of it. He’d be damned if he had to play along with Atobe’s games one second longer than was necessary.

Ohtori sighed wistfully at him, before turning back to Kaidoh. “We just want to help,” he said brightly. “We know how hard it can be sometimes, but you don’t have to be alone, not as long as you’re a doubles player!”

Kaidoh just _stared_ at him.

“Your partner can give you strength!” Ohtori sighed.

Kaidoh stared more.

“Your partner can give you _love_!”

Kaidoh, for the first time in his life, cut out of his weight-lifting only halfway through his sets and _ran_.

***

Atobe lounged back in his pool chair, took a sip of his tropically-colored drink, and glanced idly at the text message on his phone. Next to him, Tezuka stood, back ramrod straight, arms crossed, supervising the inter-team practice.

Everything was going just according to plan.

“Tezuka,” Atobe drawled.

“What?” Tezuka demanded.

“I do believe we’re being watched.” Atobe let loose with a full body stretch that caused his shirt to ride up. He smirked when he noticed Tezuka’s gaze flick over his way for a second before quickly returning to the courts. “Aren’t your regulars supposed to be training on their own?”

“To some of my regulars,” Tezuka snorted, “watching us _is_ training.”

Inui took that as his cue and emerged from the bushes. “I’ve gathered some valuable data,” he insisted, tapping his notebook with his pencil.

Tezuka grunted and stalked off.

Inui was about to follow him like the good stalker that he was, but Atobe stopped him with an imperious snap of his fingers. “I may have some interesting information for you,” he said in his most bored tone of voice.

The sunlight glinted off Inui’s glasses. “Oh?”

“That second-year you partnered with against Hyotei… What was his name again?”

“Kaidoh.” Inui’s voice sounded downright orgasmic at the thought of more data on Kaidoh.

“Mmm, that sounds right,” Atobe agreed, like he didn’t know Tezuka’s entire team forwards and backwards. “Well, I just got a fascinating text message from Shishido and Ohtori. Apparently, they’ve decided to train with your Kaidoh today. He doesn’t seem to be playing friendly, though.”

Atobe gave Inui a moment to process this data. It didn’t take much to realize that Shishido and Ohtori acting like their normal selves were the absolute worst possible combination with Kaidoh. It didn’t take much more for someone who hoped that one day Kaidoh might turn around on the whole homosexuality issue to realize that whatever damage Shishido and Ohtori were causing needed to be stopped _immediately_. The power of Shishido and Ohtori’s ability to annoy with their endless declarations of devotion was nearly unlimited.

“Hmm,” Inui considered for a moment before vanishing back into the bushes. It was rather disturbing how seamlessly he returned to his stalking.

Atobe shook off his sudden attack of the creeps when Tezuka returned. “You look so _tense_ ,” Atobe teased. “Why don’t you join me?” He patted the pool chair beside him. “It’ll be a tight fit, but I’m sure we can squeeze in together.”

Tezuka just glared at him.

***

“It’s just not right,” Shishido insisted, panting on Kaidoh’s heels.

“Your doubles partner should be here to support you!” Ohtori agreed.

“How can you build a proper connection if you don’t train together?” Shishido demanded.

“You have to open your heart!” Ohtori exclaimed.

Kaidoh stopped suddenly, turned on his heels, and _hissed_. “Leave me _alone_!”

Shishido and Ohtori were taken aback for a second, but then Shishido remembered that he couldn’t lose, and Ohtori remembered that he couldn’t hold Shishido back.

“We’ll stand by you,” Ohtori insisted firmly, “until your doubles partner arrives.”

Kaidoh debated committing seppuku.

At the moment, however, Inui seemed to melt from out of the bushes in a way reminiscent of certain Terminators.

“Senpai,” Kaidoh breathed in relief. “These two have been following me around all afternoon.”

“Hmm,” Inui’s glasses gleamed maniacally, “we may just have to play a game against them. It’ll be good data…”

Kaidoh smirked.

Shishido and Ohtori exchanged a brave look. “Together, we _will_ win!”

An evil smile curved Inui’s lips, and he reached into the bag behind him. “The game is this, then.” He held up a thermos before him. “Whoever can drink this without passing out first wins.” As he spoke, the liquid inside bubbled, the thick brown-black goo spurting and squelching. Shishido was pretty sure he saw a frog’s leg press desperately against the front of a bottle, trying to escape, before it was sucked back into the blob of sewage.

Shishido gulped. Ohtori gulped. They were a perfect doubles team, and they could do anything together, and this was no different. As one, they turned to look at each other, nodded confidently…

And ran away.

“Thought they’d _never_ leave,” Kaidoh grumbled.

“Mmm, good data.” Inui scratched away in his notebook.

Kaidoh glanced nervously at Inui’s bubbling thermos of doom. “So we don’t have to drink that thing now, right?”

“Next time,” Inui agreed evilly, returning it to his bag.

Kaidoh gulped.

“However,” Inui pushed his glasses up and considered his partner, “we have other things to worry about.”

Kaidoh shrugged. “Whatever it is, it can’t be more annoying that _those two_.”

“I fear those two _are_ the problem,” Inui corrected. “Tezuka was wise to tell us not to let our guards down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe,” Inui paused dramatically, “that they have corrupted our data.”

Kaidoh’s eyes widened. From Inui, this was roughly equivalent to saying that the world was about to end. “H-How?”

“Our combination during Regionals was quite excellent,” Inui continued. “Hyotei obviously views us as a threat for Nationals.”

Kaidoh nodded in agreement.

“So, in an effort to destroy our teamwork, Atobe sent those two to turn you against doubles.” Inui was quite happy with his brilliant deduction.

Kaidoh looked skeptical. “I don’t know…”

“Tell me, Kaidoh,” Inui pressed. “What is your view of doubles right now?”

“Well,” Kaidoh considered. He scowled at some of the more gushy comments he’d heard from the Hyotei pair. “I guess it’s kind of…fruity.”

Inui nodded seriously. “I feared as much. Now we will have to overcome your mental block.”

“What do we do?” Kaidoh asked innocently.

“I believe the best solution is to demonstrate to you that a good, _close_ combination need not be ‘fruity’ at all.” Inui stepped in close, and his fingers circled Kaidoh’s wrist cautiously.

“S-Senpai?” Kaidoh’s cheeks flushed, and he looked to the side nervously.

“Kaidoh…” Inui breathed, begging softly.

“You promise you won’t start whining about how we complete each other?” Kaidoh still refused to meet his eyes.

“I promise.” Inui’s glasses gleamed.

“Oh. Well, that’s okay, then.”

Inui reached out, caught Kaidoh’s cheek in his palm, and kissed him in the manliest way he knew how. There wasn’t anything fruity about it, at all. It was sweaty and hard and rough.

All in all, Inui concluded, it had been an excellent day for data-gathering, after all.

***

“Atobe, Atobe!” exclaimed Ohtori breathlessly before collapsing at the ground by Atobe’s feet.

“You should have _seen_ that gunk!” Shishido gasped and fell to the ground next to Ohtori. “I didn’t think we would _survive_.”

Atobe sat up in his pool chair to peer down at them. “It’s done, then?”

They both nodded and then slumped to the ground, unconscious.

“Ah, good.” Atobe returned to his self-manicure. Never one to let a good opportunity go to waste, he took advantage of Shishido and Ohtori’s collapsed bodies as the ideally positioned footrest.

Tezuka glanced over at where Atobe now had his bare feet propped up on his own teammates. “You’re _deplorable_ ,” he scowled.

Atobe smirked back at him, “Love you, too,” and blew him a kiss.


	5. How Momoshiro and Echizen Lost Their Virginity

Tezuka had been confident that he’d known everything about Seigaku. Until that afternoon, however, when Inui had come up behind Kaidoh and suggested they hit the showers, he hadn’t known that Kaidoh could _blush_ like that. Even more alarming was the fact that, after that blush, Kaidoh had nodded shyly and then almost smiled.

“I hate you,” Tezuka called Atobe that evening as soon as he got home from practice.

“There’s no need to be jealous of my magnificence,” Atobe’s voice rumbled. “After all, you’re reasonably magnificent, too.”

“I _really_ hate you,” Tezuka clarified.

“Well, you’re welcome to come over and show me just how much you hate me,” Atobe offered. “Since it’s our first time, I won’t even fight you for top…much.”

Tezuka hung up in disgust. He then tried calling Oishi to discuss how they couldn’t let their guards down around Hyotei, but Oishi brushed him off and Tezuka was pretty sure he could hear Kikumaru giggling in the background. So Tezuka tried to call Fuji to brainstorm ways to keep their guards up, but Kawamura answered Fuji’s phone instead and informed Tezuka, loudly, “Fuji’s not in his pants right now, _baby_!”

Tezuka, with no recourse left, called Echizen. Echizen didn’t answer on the first four rings, and Tezuka began to worry that the inconceivable had happened, but then finally Tezuka heard Echizen’s very disinterested voice.

“Eh? Captain?”

Tezuka paused. He wasn’t quite sure how to broach this subject with Echizen. Captain matters were always discussed with Oishi, personal matters with Fuji. With Echizen, the only way Tezuka knew how to communicate was:

“Echizen, be Seigaku’s pillar of support!”

“Huh? Captain, I’m trying to do my homework right now. Can’t this wait until practice tomorrow?”

Tezuka almost hung up, but this was just too important. “When the rest of the team has fallen, I’m counting on you to pull us through,” he insisted.

“Uh…thanks?”

“No matter what, you must _not_ let Hyotei convince you to have sex with Momoshiro,” Tezuka instructed.

“ _What?_ ” There was a lot of coughing on the other end of the line, and then some crashing like the phone had fallen, and then dead silence.

Tezuka tried calling Echizen back, but the message just said that Echizen’s phone was not currently operational. Tezuka frowned. He hoped his warning had been received in time.

***

“I still don’t see why I have to work with _you_ ,” Taki sulked.

“I wouldn’t complain if I were you,” Hiyoshi retorted haughtily. “After all, you’re not even a regular anymore.”

Taki glared at him. “So what’s Atobe’s plan?” he demanded.

“There isn’t one,” Hiyoshi informed him confidently.

“What?”

“Atobe said that if I wanted to be captain next year, I’d have to learn to do these things on my own.”

Taki groaned and rubbed his temples. “We’re _doomed_!”

Hiyoshi glared at him. “Shut up.”

“Why me?”

“I can do it!”

“I never did anything to deserve this!”

“Well, you _did_ lose to Shishido…”

“Hiyoshi?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

***

“Twelve thirty PM,” Hiyoshi reported into his recorder. “Subjects are eating lunch. A fight has begun as to who can eat more, and… God, they eat like _pigs_!” Hiyoshi scrunched up his nose in distaste.

“How long do we have to hide here?” Taki complained, swatting at the branch of the bush they were sitting in that kept scratching against his arm. “My legs are starting to go numb.”

“We have to gather proper intel,” Hiyoshi informed him. “My plan is going to be better than all of Atobe’s put together, and then I will step into my rightful place as Hyotei’s captain.”

“Uh, right.” Taki blinked at him. “You _do_ know you have a bee on your back, right?”

“Ack!” Hiyoshi screeched and leapt out of the bush. “Get it off! Get it off!” He swatted at his own back ineffectively.

“Sucker,” Taki chuckled to himself.

***

“One forty-five PM. Subjects have entered arcade and are killing each other repeatedly in a first-person shooter game.”

“Can we go now?” Taki sighed. “This isn’t just stupid; it’s _boring_ , too.” He took a sip of his smoothie and scowled down at where Hiyoshi was crouched beneath the window. “You know, even if they can’t see you, they can certainly see _me_.”

“It doesn’t matter if they see you,” Hiyoshi informed him. “You’re not even a regular anymore, so they won’t recognize you.”

“Say that one more time, and I swear I’m going to kick your ass.”

“You can’t. Atobe put _me_ in charge.”

“Screw Atobe.”

“You wish.”

“Well, yeah,” Taki said thoughtfully. “ _Everyone_ wishes for that…”

***

“Three twenty—”

“I _know_ how long we’ve been waiting here,” Taki cut him off impatiently. “ _Forever_.”

“God, you’re such a drama queen.”

“ _I’m_ a drama queen?” Taki squeaked.

“Ahem,” Hiyoshi cleared his throat. “Three twenty-five. Subjects are now screaming in each other’s face. Source of argument appears to be ice cream. Echizen is being a cocky brat. Potential plan: Shove them into each other while they’re challenging each other. They’re close enough anyway that they’re almost kissing.”

“ _That_ is your plan?” Taki sighed. “Oh my god…”

“Well, fine. Do you have a better one?”

“I just know that _Atobe_ never spent an entire afternoon crawling around on the ground, stalking members of another team.”

“As soon as I’m captain and I have lackeys, I’ll make them do it for me,” Hiyoshi insisted.

“Atobe didn’t crawl on the ground even _before_ he was captain,” Taki pointed out.

“Well, I’m going to be a different kind of captain,” Hiyoshi concluded. “A better one.”

“An incompetent one is more like it,” Taki rolled his eyes.

“That is _it_!” Hiyoshi whined. “I’m sick of you complaining and—”

At that moment, Momoshiro and Echizen, who were now done arguing about ice cream and were eating it instead, passed by their way.

“Hey, Hiyoshi!” Momoshiro waved. “Hiyoshi’s friend.” He nodded at Taki.

“Eh?” Echizen blinked up at Momoshiro. “You know them?”

Momoshiro scowled down at him. “ _You_ know them, idiot! That’s the guy you beat in round one at Regionals.”

Echizen frowned. “Wasn’t I the substitute that round?”

“And there was the no-game, so you had to fill in,” Momoshiro reminded him.

“Oh, right,” Echizen remembered. “That match only lasted about five minutes, so I completely forgot about it.”

They turned the next corner and vanished from Hiyoshi and Taki’s view.

Hiyoshi’s eye twitched.

Taki burst out laughing. “He didn’t even _remember_ you!”

“Shut up!” Hiyoshi retorted. “ _Neither_ of them remembered you! You know why? Because you’re _not a regular_!”

“At least I didn’t get beaten in ‘about five minutes’!”

“Okay, that’s it,” Hiyoshi growled. “They are going _down_!”

Taki snorted. “What are you going to do? Knock them out and tie them naked to a bed?”

Hiyoshi got a thoughtful look in his eye.

“Uh, you know I was kidding about that, right, Hiyoshi?” Taki asked worriedly.

***

At three fifty on that particular sunny afternoon, Hiyoshi and Taki knocked Momoshiro and Echizen out and tied them naked to a bed. It wasn’t anywhere near as easy as it sounded.

First, Hiyoshi ran after the Seigaku pair to stall them, while Taki frantically called for help on how to knock them out. He called Kabaji first, since he seemed to be the logical choice, but Kabaji had just forwarded his call to Atobe.

“I need something that will knock out a teenage male for about an hour,” Taki requested.

“I know Hiyoshi is insufferable,” Atobe drawled, “but please try to refrain from rendering him unconscious.”

“No, not for _him_!” Taki corrected, although now that he thought about it, it wasn’t a bad idea…

Atobe sighed. “Call Shishido. He probably has some sleeping pills around somewhere.”

“Shishido?” Taki asked.

“It’s the only alternative to crying himself to sleep every night after he lost to Tachibana.”

Taki took a certain amount of glee in that…and made note that _he_ should get some sleeping pills so he wouldn’t have to cry himself to sleep every night after losing to Shishido anymore.

Thankfully, Shishido had the pills and delivered them speedily. Taki ran back to where Hiyoshi was still ineffectually stalling Momoshiro and Echizen.

“No, I’m on _Hyotei_!” Hiyoshi was growling at Echizen. “We played the match that determined the entire Regionals line-up!”

Echizen shook his head. “You still don’t look familiar…”

“Remember how Atobe beat Tezuka?”

“He just _barely_ won,” Momoshiro glared. “And he used dirty tricks, too!”

“And then you played me,” Hiyoshi pressed.

Echizen shook his head. “Are you _sure_ you’re on Hyotei?”

“Why you little…”

“Uh… Hey, guys!” Taki cut in.

“Huh. Are you going to pretend you’re on Hyotei, too?” Echizen asked wearily.

Taki froze, took a deep breath, and decided to let that one slide for the team. “You guys want to get something to eat? It’s our treat.”

Momoshiro and Echizen didn’t even have to consult with each other to say, in perfect synchronicity: “Yes!”

***

The actual drugging of Momoshiro and Echizen’s drinks was easy enough. Hiyoshi had even had the common sense to suggest that, after buying the food, they eat it in the park, so that there weren’t any witnesses to their crime.

However, once Momoshiro and Echizen had conked out on the park bench and were sleeping like babies, Hiyoshi and Taki realized that they had a problem.

“So, I’ll take Echizen,” Taki concluded, “and since you’re taller, you take Momoshiro.”

“What? No way! I’m in charge, so _I’ll_ carry the shrimp, and _you_ carry Momoshiro!”

“But he’s bigger than me!” Taki complained.

“Well, then you shouldn’t have lost to Shishido,” Hiyoshi said smugly.

“Well, _you_ shouldn’t have lost to Echizen.”

“At least _I’m_ still a regular!”

“Hey, you know how you’re always talking about beating your elders? What’s it called when you get owned by your _younger_?”

“It’s called: ‘ _Shut the fuck up, Taki_!’”

Things could have gone on like that forever, but Atobe’s limo driver took that moment to honk, since he was half blocking traffic while waiting for his master’s teammates, and he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

So Taki grudgingly ended up dragging Momoshiro behind him, even though Momoshiro was bigger than him, while Hiyoshi led the way easily with Echizen. Two Hyotei tennis players bundling two unconscious Seigaku players into stretch limousine in broad daylight attracted quite a lot of attention, it turned out.

“It really does look like a kidnapping,” Ibu mumbled to himself as he watched. “I should probably do something. But every time I do something, I get yelled at. Momoshiro even yelled at me that one time I was about to rescue that cat. Does that mean that Momoshiro would yell at me if I tried to rescue him?”

“Hey, Fudomine,” Hiyoshi glared at him. “Shut it.” And he slammed the limousine door shut.

The limo sped off in the distance.

“He really shouldn’t call me ‘Fudomine,’” Ibu muttered to himself. “I’m not the embodiment of my school, after all. Would he like it if I called him ‘Hyotei’? I don’t think so. He should call me by my name. My name is Ibu Shinji. So that’s what he should call me.”

Needless to say, Ibu wasn’t of any help to anyone whatsoever.

***

Once Hiyoshi and Taki had kidnapped Momoshiro and Echizen, taken them back to Atobe’s mansion, stripped them naked and tied them to the bed, everything worked perfectly, however.

“Eh?” Echizen woke up. “How did I get here?”

“Where did my clothes go?” Momoshiro yelped.

“Hey, Seigaku,” Hiyoshi called through the closed door, “which one of you is hornier?” He gave Taki the thumbs-up sign.

Taki groaned and banged his head on the wall.

“I am _way_ hornier than you!” Momoshiro’s voice drifted through the closed door.

“Whatever, Momo-senpai. I could beat you in horniness any day.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, prove it! I challenge you!”

“You’re going to lose!”

“I am not! I—Hey!”

“Told you you’d lose.”

“Well, if you do that, then I’ll do…”

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

Hiyoshi backed away from listening at the door with a satisfied smile on his face. “Atobe couldn’t have done it any better,” he concluded.

“No,” Taki corrected him, “he _really_ could’ve.”


	6. How Tezuka Lost His Virginity

Tezuka stormed into the Atobe mansion, unannounced, right in the middle of Atobe’s facial. It was dreadfully inconvenient. Atobe had scheduled for Tezuka to storm in unannounced after Atobe was finished with his daily beauty treatment, so that he would be looking his best for his furious guest. Tezuka always had a way of thwarting Atobe’s best-laid plans, however.

“Where are they?” Tezuka demanded in a barely-contained roar.

“Third floor guest bedroom, second on the right.” Atobe waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the back of the estate. “You’re welcome to try to get them out of there, but they’ve been at it all day. Something about some challenge or other.”

“I can’t believe you would resort to kidnapping,” Tezuka said disdainfully.

“I did no such thing,” Atobe insisted primly. “It was all Hiyoshi. If I’d known what he was doing, I would have stopped it, of course.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. Hiyoshi still lacks class. I really do worry for Hyotei next year…”

“ _Atobe_ …” Tezuka growled.

“Yes?”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Tezuka demanded.

“I’d love to,” Atobe sighed, “but in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got cucumber slices on my eyelids and mud all over my face. You’ll have to settle for this.”

“Atobe?” Tezuka warned.

“Yes?”

“Take it off _now_.”

Tezuka’s voice rumbled, and the reverberations vibrated sympathetically against something deep inside Atobe. The feeling was exhilarating and set off all sorts of weird hormonal responses in Atobe’s body. Atobe, for the first time in his life, did exactly what he was told.

He snapped his fingers, and Kabaji quickly came over and interrupted his beauty treatment. Waves of emotion ebbed from Tezuka’s direction in the few moments it took him to clean off Atobe’s face.

“Leave us now,” Atobe requested. “And,” he added as an afterthought, “make sure no one interrupts us. No matter what odd noises they might hear.”

“Yes,” Kabaji left with a firm nod.

There was a heavy silence when he closed the door behind him.

And then: “ _Atobe_!”

The very last of Tezuka’s control snapping was a terrifying thing. His face twisted into an unnatural snarl, and he _lunged_. Atobe barely managed to get his hands up in time to ward off the attack. Bottles of lotions, perfumes, and massage oil went flying in every direction, skittering across the cold marble floor. The recliner Atobe rested upon shook violently, and then one of the legs snapped, sending them both careening to the floor.

Tezuka landed on top. Wild eyes took in Atobe, flushed and disheveled, his lavender silk robe slipping back to reveal his perfectly-muscled body _everywhere_. It was a sight every sex-starved man dreamed of.

Atobe let out a scream as Tezuka sunk his teeth into Atobe’s collarbone, marking territory. Atobe’s perfectly-trimmed nails clawed at Tezuka’s clothing, and he was more than satisfied when he heard something tear. He bucked his hips wildly and managed to throw Tezuka off him and back onto the floor. Atobe tumbled after him, pinning him down with one hand and deftly unfastening Tezuka’s pants with the other.

“Y-You…” Tezuka growled, eyes flashing dangerously. “You are the most insufferable, arrogant…”

“Well, _you_ ,” Atobe complained with a satisfied exclamation when he finally succeeded in kicking Tezuka’s pants off, “are a humorless, rigid…”

Tezuka’s hand shot out, caught Atobe by the throat, and slammed him back down to the ground. “ _Infuriating!_ ”

“ _Frigid_!”

“Smug… Gah!” Tezuka couldn’t stand it anymore. His hand was still on Atobe’s throat, while Atobe kicked and struggled beneath him, and Tezuka really wanted to strangle Atobe just then. But, even more, he wanted to _shut Atobe up for once_.

The last instinct won out and, before Tezuka even realized what he was doing, his lips crashed down on Atobe’s, bruising and punishing.

Atobe’s hands clawed down Tezuka’s bare back, and he fought back with everything he had. He forced his tongue deep into Tezuka’s mouth, plundering and _taking_.

The rim of Tezuka’s glasses cut into Atobe’s right cheek just below the beauty mark. Neither of them noticed as they clashed.

“I’m going to…to…” Tezuka threatened breathlessly when he pulled away.

“What?” Atobe smirked up at him.

“I’ll _show you_!” Tezuka exclaimed. With a sudden burst of strength even Tezuka didn’t know he possessed, he lifted Atobe right off the ground.

Atobe’s legs wrapped around Tezuka’s waist instinctively, and Tezuka staggered over to the emperor-sized bed at the far side of the room. Tezuka had been a bit puzzled by the presence of that bed when he first arrived, but presumably rich people just had things like that in _every_ room. Or at least Atobe seemed to.

Tezuka didn’t pay such matters any mind now, however. He flipped Atobe over, forced him face-down onto the mattress in front of him, and pulled the robe back off Atobe’s arms. Atobe tried to struggle, but with his face pressed into the bed like this, he couldn’t do much. Tezuka watched the muscles in Atobe’s ass flex as he squirmed.

Now, Tezuka was a virgin still. However, despite the laws of physics, nature, and just plain common sense, he knew he was going to be very, very good at sex. Even the first time. After all, he was _Tezuka_ , and Tezuka was good at _everything_. It was a law even greater than physics, nature, and just plain common sense. Everyone knew that.

So Tezuka crawled atop Atobe’s naked body from behind and purred right in his ear. “Be awed,” he flipped open the bottle of massage oil that had conveniently landed right next to the bed, “at my prowess.”

Atobe shivered and was very awed, indeed.

***

For the next several hours, screams, moans, and crashes reverberated throughout the Atobe mansion. The servants continued to bustle about their daily routines as if this were perfectly ordinary.

“Isn’t it nice that Master Keigo’s found himself such a good friend?” the upstairs maid smiled to the housekeeper when they passed on the grand staircase.

At the same moment, Atobe’s screams of, “Harder, you bastard!” sounded in the background.

“That Tezuka boy seems so well-grounded,” the housekeeper agreed happily. “They should be very good for each other.”

“Yeah, yeah, take it!” Tezuka’s grunts shook the mansion.

A vibration not unlike an earthquake followed and, out in the greenhouse, the gardener swore as several pots shattered when they were knocked clear from their shelves. He just sighed wearily and rolled his eyes, though, as if to say, “Those Atobes and their orgies!” like it was an everyday occurrence.

Finally, there was an explosion, and a sound that couldn’t be anything other than the roars of dinosaurs going extinct echoed throughout the mansion.

In the third-floor guest bedroom, Momoshiro and Echizen paused for the first time all day.

“Uh…” Momoshiro began. “Was that…?”

“Yup,” Echizen sighed and rolled his eyes. “The captain did it _again_.”

Momoshiro snorted. “Hey, Echizen?”

“What?”

“If you want to be better than our captain, you still have lots to work on.”

Echizen glared at him and took that as another challenge.

***

“Mmm,” Atobe preened, stretched, and blinked up at the ceiling. He frowned slowly. “Hey, Tezuka?”

“Mmm, Atobe…” Tezuka nuzzled his neck affectionately.

“Are those your glasses hanging from the chandelier?”

Tezuka couldn’t really see that far without his glasses. Mostly, he could only see Atobe clearly. He looked anyway, though, and could make out a slightly darker blob amidst the light-ish blob of the chandelier. “Probably,” he agreed.

“Ah,” said Atobe. “Good.”

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Tezuka mumbled sleepily against Atobe’s cheek.

“Is it, now?” Atobe hummed in response.

“I don’t know how we’re _ever_ going to pry Momoshiro and Echizen out of that bedroom,” Tezuka sighed.

“That is a problem,” Atobe conceded.

“Inui and Kaidoh, I’m pretty sure, have secretly gotten married. Even though it’s not legal. Kaidoh’s traditional that way, you know. And they won’t stop ‘endurance training,’ no matter how many times I yell at them.”

“Well, at least they’ll be shape for Nationals…”

“What about Fuji? Kawamura burned all his pants since he claims he can’t stand the sight of Fuji in them anymore. How is Fuji supposed to play in Nationals without _pants_?”

“Somehow, I think that if anyone could manage, it’s Fuji.”

“And Kikumaru’s had handcuff-shaped bruises on his wrists every day at practice now for _two weeks straight_! Oishi won’t even look at me.”

“Ha!” Atobe exclaimed smugly. “I always said it was the quiet ones…”

“Atobe, I’m serious,” Tezuka complained.

“You’re always serious,” Atobe pointed out.

“Was this all a plan to sabotage Seigaku at Nationals?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re evil and I hate you,” Tezuka grumped against his shoulder.

“I hate you, too,” Atobe assured him fervently.

“What am I going to do?”

“Well,” Atobe considered, “the way I see it, there’s really only one thing you _can_ do…”

Tezuka eyed him suspiciously. “And what’s that?”

Atobe smirked. “Make sure that Hyotei’s captain is just as distracted as your team, so that we go into Nationals on even footing.”

“ _Atobe_ …” Tezuka growled in his best ‘you are the most frustrating person alive and I’m going to fuck you into submission’ voice.

“Mmm, Tezuka…” Atobe sighed contentedly. “What do you think we’ll make go extinct this time?”

And thus the rivalry between Seigaku and Hyotei was resolved…for the moment.


	7. Epilogue – How Atobe Finally Let His Guard Down, Too

It took three days of sex with Atobe in every conceivable place, position, and combination, before Tezuka finally returned to his usual stoic self.

“Come on,” Atobe complained and tried to pull Tezuka back into bed, “don’t be like that.”

“My team needs me,” Tezuka insisted. He contemplated his shirt in his hands; it had been ripped right down the middle.

“But, Tezuka-darling, _I_ need you, too.”

Tezuka glared back at him.

Atobe smirked.

“After Nationals,” Tezuka informed him.

Atobe pouted. “You’re no fun at all.”

Tezuka grunted and gave up on trying to salvage his shirt. He pulled on his pants, instead.

“I will expect flowers, though,” Atobe informed him lazily from the bed. “Love letters. Presents.”

Tezuka re-grunted.

“After all, not everyone is so fortunate to have such a handsome and talented first lover. Really, Tezuka, you must show your full appreciation. Why, if I hadn’t done something, you probably would have ended up with some plain, dull, _unworthy_ little schoolgirl.”

Tezuka may have had the emotional range of a doorpost, but he was always a gentleman. “I am,” he assured Atobe, “ _very_ appreciative.” He’d had Atobe only minutes earlier, but glancing back at his naked body, Tezuka wanted him all over again, like his thirst for Atobe would never be sated. Tezuka was strong, though, and pushed the temptation aside…for now.

“Hmm. Yes, well, I would have hated for your first time to be unmemorable.” Atobe rolled over so that his back was to Tezuka and settled in to sleep. “Seigaku’s captain finally got his cherry popped… I had to make it _phenomenal_.”

Something grated in the back of Tezuka’s mind, that emotion Atobe had claimed was jealousy once. Tezuka decided to believe Atobe on that. He _was_ jealous. “Of course, your first must have been ‘phenomenal,’ too.” Tezuka couldn’t help but mock Atobe’s drawl.

Atobe sighed nostalgically. “Oh,” he agreed happily, “he was…”

“So I take it he was _worthy_ of you,” Tezuka’s tone had turned downright snide.

“Mmm, yes,” Atobe agreed. “He was handsome, intelligent, amazing in bed… And, of course, a brilliant tennis player.”

“Of course,” Tezuka scowled. Something bitter twisted in his gut. It had been wonderful having Atobe as a lover, but he couldn’t delude himself that this was anything particularly extraordinary for Atobe. Everyone knew Hyotei players were the kinkiest. Hell, as soon as Tezuka left, Atobe probably had a dozen or so people on speed dial that would come take Tezuka’s place.

“I could spend the rest of my life satisfied with just him,” Atobe confessed softly.

Something like despair filled Tezuka’s chest at that. His mind instantly started running through the possibilities: Oshitari? Not quite on Atobe’s level. Yukimura? Unlikely. Fuji? No, of course not, he’d been a virgin. Tachibana? Given Atobe’s attitude towards Fudomine, no. Sanada? Tezuka paled. Oh god, it was Sanada, wasn’t it? Or maybe some Hyotei player from previous years who was in high school now…

Tezuka finally managed to gasp out, “Who?” Whoever it was, he was going to sick Fuji on them. He didn’t even care if that was evil.

“His name,” Atobe said fondly, “is Tezuka Kunimitsu.”

 _Tezuka Kunimitsu is so dead_ , Tezuka thought. And then blinked.

A beat.

“What?” Tezuka sputtered in disbelief.

“Don’t act so surprised, or I’ll be insulted,” Atobe huffed, still not looking at Tezuka.

Tezuka reached over and rolled Atobe onto his back. “Don’t toy with me.”

“I would never toy with you.”

Tezuka gave him an incredulous look.

“About this, I mean,” Atobe clarified.

“B-But…” Tezuka grasped the first scattered thought he could. “Everyone _knows_ Hyotei has massive group orgies here every weekend!”

Atobe blinked up at him, puzzled. “I have no idea where you’re getting your information from, but…just, no.”

“You were _incredible_ , though. How could you have been a virgin?” Tezuka demanded.

“Do you honestly think you’re the only one who’s immediately good at everything, despite the laws of physics, nature, and just plain common sense? And they call _me_ egotistical…”

Tezuka gaped for one moment, before he came up with incontrovertible _proof_ that Atobe was lying: “But _you_ were the one so horrified that Seigaku were virgins in the first place!”

“Well…” Atobe’s eyes glanced off to the side in a way that was almost vulnerable. “I’ve been told,” he confessed softly, “that there’s nothing wrong with saving yourself for the right person.”

Tezuka’s breath caught in his throat.

“So?” Atobe demanded, meeting Tezuka’s gaze in a firm challenge, all confidence and bluster once again.

Tezuka took a deep breath and leaned in to press the gentlest kiss he could against Atobe’s cheek, right over his beauty mark. “No,” he agreed softly, “there isn’t.”


End file.
